


My Right To Be A Prick - And My Right Only

by rouven_stat



Series: The Witcher One Shots [4]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Protective Lambert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:28:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29061333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rouven_stat/pseuds/rouven_stat
Summary: We all know Lambert can be an ass. But what happens when other people decide to insult his brothers?
Relationships: Eskel & Lambert (The Witcher)
Series: The Witcher One Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132289
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	My Right To Be A Prick - And My Right Only

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short idea I couldn't get out of my head while studying calculus. I hope you enjoy.

"So, Eskel, I heard that goats don't see that well."

"And?"

Lambert smirks, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"It explains Lil Bleater's loyalty. Can't tell how fucked up you look."

With a cackle, the youngest witcher turns around to leave, but Jaskier holds him back with a stern look on his face.

"You know you love your brother, don't insult him. Apologise."

A surprised chuckle leaves Lambert's mouth as he watches the bard. "What?"

"You heard me. Apologise, now."

Throwing his head back in laughter, Lambert pushes Jaskier's hand away and leaves the library. When the bard makes to follow him, Eskel tugs his doublet to hold him back.

"Leave him. It's how he shows his love."

"But he insults you."

"Well, it's Lambert."

"You stoic witchers – he doesn't get to insult you for something you have nothing to feel bad about. Your scars make you look adventurous."

Shaking his head, Eskel smiles softly. "That's not – you'll see soon enough why Lambert can insult me to my face as much as he likes."

With a huff, Jaskier plops back down on the furs on the floor.

"It better be a good fucking reason, or I will smash his face in with my lute."

And as soon as spring arrives, Jaskier doesn't have to wait long to see exactly what Eskel has been talking about. The three witchers and the bard leave together this year, ready for a common night in Ard Carraigh to split up after.

This is how they end up in a family-run inn, drinking ale and enjoying the surprisingly entertaining - although not as good as Jaskier himself - bard for the night. Lambert keeps making his jokes, ignoring the sour look that crosses the human's face every time. Geralt stays quiet, focused on the beer, and Jaskier talks to Eskel about the upcoming year, the current political situation andeverything else that comes to mind.

All is well until a farmer enters the inn, sees the witchers, and scowls. He comes over, stumbling on his way to show how drunk he already is, and points a finger right at Eskel's face. "You ugly fucking mug. You hunt monsters? Do they run away from your fucking face - because I sure would if I were a kikimora."

He snorts at his own joke, not noticing how Lambert has risen to his feet and grabbed a dagger hidden in his sleeve.

"What did you say, farm boy?" the youngest witcher growls.

"Do not call me a farm boy."

"You insult my blood, I call you whatever the fuck I want. If I looked like you, I would keep my mouth shut about anyone else."

Jaskier watches with wide eyes as Lambert crowds the man backwards. And when the man starts to show a tremor of fear, Lambert bares his teeth. "Apologize. Now."

"What?"

"You fucking heard me."

Eskel rolls his eyes while Geralt hides his amused smirk in his mug. Next to them, Jaskier is too taken aback by the scene to say anything - or to shut his mouth again.

"Was only telling the truth."

"Well, I ain't got all night."

When Lambert presses the blade to the farmer's throat, Eskel decides to step in before the innkeeper sees this and throws them out.

"Lambert."

"Do not play the big good guy now, Eskel. He has to apologize."

"Leave him. Not worth the trouble - I want a bed tonight."

With a snarl, Lambert adds a tiny amount of pressure to the blade, enough to draw a drop of blood, before letting go. He pushes the man back roughly, watching as he scurries out of the inn quickly.

Only when the door falls shut behind him, Lambert returns to his seat, picking up his own mug of ale as if nothing has happened.

"You don't have to fight my battles."

"Sure do, you weren't about to punch him for speaking to you this way."

Now, finally, Jaskier finds his voice again, whipping his head around to stare at the youngest witcher and crossing his arms. "How is what he said any different to what you say every day?"

Lambert scowls at him.

"Nobody insults my brother. Nobody but me."

Eskel smiles softly at him. "Love you, too."

"I hate your ugly guts."

"No, you don't."

To Jaskier's surprise, Lambert doesn't deny it this time, avoiding a response by gulping down the rest of his ale. He raises to his feet, grabbing everyone's empty mugs for a refill and leaves the table.

"As you see, Jask, it's complicated," Eskel explains softly. "He always has my back - he can insult me as much as he wants. I know he doesn't mean it."

"So he talks shit about you all the time, but when someone else says the same words, he kills them?"

"Pretty much," Geralt agrees.

"Damn right, I do," Lambert speaks up, returning to the table and passing along the fresh ales. "That's my right to be a prick."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
